There were a lot of regrets, but we didn’t care.
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There were a lot of regrets, but we didn’t care.
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‘The anglophone world, we have to infer, has run out of words for its own feelings.’
Daisy Hildyard on the wisdom of scarecrows.
‘What is the read receipt for?’
Lillian Fishman on texting, power and the ethics of leaving a friend on read.
‘Like pretty much everyone who uses the internet, I have seen many terrible things that I did not search for and that I cannot unsee.’
Rosanna McLaughlin on what the internet thinks she wants.
‘I have a pathological addiction to the internet, which I indulge with the excuse of making art. It rarely translates to anything good and mostly leaves me overstimulated and afraid.’
Paul Dalla Rosa on excess and the internet.
‘rumors of bees on speedwell, / no oxidative stress just / effortless pollination’
Two poems by Sylvia Legris.
Belinda McKeon is the author of two novels, Solace and Tender. Solace won the Geoffrey Faber Memorial Prize and was named the 2011 Irish Book of the Year. She lives in New York and teaches at Rutgers University.
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‘On all sides he is surrounded by old people: jowly liver-spotted men in wrinkled suits, brown-toothed women in Thatcher drag, holding forth with tiresome decorum on coal imports, road safety, the economy of Northern Ireland.’
Fiction by Allen Bratton.
‘It’s when things fail to return to normal, that finally you get it: this is normal.’
Gary Indiana on growing older.
‘He is an ancestor, he has had his son, he has lost possession of the world.’
Fiction by Allen Bratton.
‘He laughs with a human laugh, a sinister and forceful cackle.’
Newly translated work from the Argentine writer Hebe Uhart.
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